


Fortescue's, Or, What You Will

by ms_worplesdon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossdressing, F/M, Identity Reveal, References to Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:58:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2825918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms_worplesdon/pseuds/ms_worplesdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luna resorts to drastic measures to get a job in the wizarding world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fortescue's, Or, What You Will

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for ayane_tsurugi in the 2009 Radish Love fest. This is a loving riff of both Twelfth Night and a television series clearly inspired by it. References scattered throughout are 100% intentional. I would have liked this to be much longer. There were so many details and side pairings that I would have liked to include, but them's the brakes.

Everyone was very kind.  
  
Daddy had been dead a mere three weeks, and the money was running out at an alarming rate. It was very hard indeed to feed oneself for the rest of one's life on 14 galleons, 3 sickles. Something had to be done. The Weasleys did everything they could, bless them. Luna didn't quite realize just how seriously they were taking her fate until the afternoon Percy arrived at her door bearing a modest bouquet of flowers and a proposal of marriage.  
  
"Percy, I do hope your mother didn't talk you into this," she said with a tone of admonishment.  
  
"Not at all," he insisted. "I've always held you in the highest regard, Miss Lovegood."  
  
He really was a terrible liar. Such a shame he felt the need to go into politics.  
  
"You know perfectly well that I'd be completely unsuitable as the wife of a politician. It's so thoughtful of you to consider me, but it simply won't do. How would I live with myself knowing I'd held you back? The wizarding world needs you, Percy. It would be wrong of me to stand in the way of that."  
  
Percy gaped at her for a moment, a blush creeping across his face. Luna wondered how much protesting he would do before taking the out she'd given him.  
  
"I...I'd not thought of it like that. That is remarkably selfless of you."  
  
"Not at all! Simply the right thing to do." She gave him a small smile. "Now that's settled, would you like a cup of tea?"  
  
"Thank you, but no. I really must be getting back to the ministry." The relief was written plainly on his face. He really would have gone through with it! Luna felt a sudden burst of gratitude.  
  
"You  _are_  a very kind person, Percy."  
  
He blushed even further.  
  
"Likewise," he managed. "You...you really would have been lovely to come home to."  
  
She beamed at him.  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
Luna studied herself in the mirror. She was getting far too thin.   
  
If only things had turned out differently. She sighed, then shook her head as though to clear it. It did no good to play Monday morning chaser. What she needed now was a  _plan_. A way to support herself that circumvented the issue of her family name. If only Daddy hadn't done what he had. If only her own actions in the war were all that the public had to consider. If only...  
  
There was only one thing for it. Muggle employment. Surely she could survive amongst Muggles what with all the films she'd seen. She walked over to her bookshelf and perused her rather large movie collection in search of ideas.  
  
_About a Boy..._ No, that character didn't really do anything at all. _Bewitched..._ Iit would be awfully adventurous to pretend to be a witch, but she couldn't really see that happening. _Bridget Jones's Diary..._ Broadcasting? That had some possibilities, but she had no idea where to start now all Daddy's Muggle media connections were worthless. _Mary Poppins..._ Hmmm. She would make an excellent nanny, true. That was certainly an idea to consider. _Out of Africa..._ Elephants! That would be such fun! Perhaps a wildlife preserve? _Twelfth Night..._  
  
Her fingers came to a stop.  
  
Viola.  
  
Dressed as a boy.  
  
A new identity.  
  
Perhaps... perhaps she could  _stay_.  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
An hour later she barely recognized herself.  
  
Her hair, once quite long, was now a slightly shaggy boy's cut. Her tits were already rather small, so it only took some artistic wrapping to make them appear to be a lightly developed chest beneath her shirt. She wore a pair of straight hipped denims and her most masculine trainers. Leaving the glamour off of her smattering of spots was a good touch. There was nothing particularly girlish about her now.  
  
She cocked an eyebrow at herself.  
  
"Can I help you with those bags?"  
  
Too flirty.  
  
"Let's all go for a pint after work, eh lads?"  
  
Better.  
  
She flared her nostrils and flexed her biceps. She came to the conclusion that she was scrawny.  
  
"Hello, my name is Luna." Damn. What to call herself? Luna...moon...sun...Apollo? Too memorable. Alphonso? No. Leon? Too Gryffindor? She wanted something really masculine like Maximus, but didn't think it would fit her appearance very well. Nothing really felt right, so she settled on Cesario.  
  
After pulling faces for a further quarter of an hour, Luna considered herself ready.  
  
Next stop... Diagon Alley.  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
What seemed like a forbidding and hostile place as herself, now seemed like a bit of a wonderland. Anonymity was positively thrilling.  
  
She walked down the alley smiling without malice at everyone who met her eyes.  
  
They may have treated her unfairly, but she was going prove herself. She would have her place here and they were going to welcome her.  
  
The stores were full on a Friday afternoon. She stopped into all of them inquiring for positions. No one had an opening, so far, but the bright side was that everyone thought she was a boy. It was time to test it for real.  
  
Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was also packed, but George was manning the counter with Dennis Creevey. After purchasing a dungbomb for 3 sickles with not a single raised eyebrow, she considered the experiment a success. Dennis gave her a heartfelt apology for the lack of a job opening, but completely failed to recognize her.  
  
Luna felt a real stirring of hope that this would work. That called for ice cream.  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
She stood in front of the old Fortescue's building with a deeply thoughtful look upon her face.  
  
"You've come to help them open?"  
  
Luna started and looked down to see an old woman at her side.  
  
"Please, what place is this now?" she asked.  
  
"Potter's reopening the shop," the woman replied. "He's picked an unexpected profession, I must say," she went on. "But, it's good to see the old place righted. I just hope that he has Florian's old recipes!"  
  
"I do, too," Luna agreed. "Especially the mint flake."  
  
"Yes, that one went so well with the double chocolate." The old woman sighed. "If you're looking for a job, son, you should get one while you can," she advised.  
  
"I will do," she replied with a smile. Too bad there was no way, she thought to herself. If anyone was going to recognize her, it would be Harry.  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
"Pretend you're my boyfriend," Harry whispered urgently into Luna's ear.  
  
Luna was just considering leaving a note for the manager under the door when he barrelled into her from behind. He appeared to be running away from someone or something. She spied Romilda Vane rushing down the street.  
  
"Oh! Alright then!" She could do that.  
  
"I just need to get her off my scent," he said hurriedly.  
  
Luna sniffed his collar.  
  
"It  _is_  very nice."  
  
Harry looked at her in surprise.  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Harry!  _Harrrrrry!_ " Romilda came running towards them, panting.  
  
"Get ready," Harry whispered. He grabbed her possessively and buried his face in her neck. "Let's make it look good," he said, grabbing her arse.  
  
"Let's!" she giggled. This was awfully fun. She added to the effect by letting out a throaty moan just as Romilda reached them. "God, Potter!"  
  
Harry looked up at Luna, startled.  
  
" _You_ ," Romilda choked. "You're... you're GAY?" Watching her anger take hold was absolutely fascinating.  
  
"You're turning red," Luna observed.  
  
"Romilda!" Harry cried as thought surprised to see her there. He was a surprisingly good actor.  
  
"You. I hate you... _so much_...it–it... the f–, it–flame... flames... flames on the  _side_  of my face, breathing, breath...  _heaving_  breaths... heaving..."  
  
"Extraordinary," whispered Luna.  
  
"Terribly sorry, Romilda. I- I thought you  _knew_."  
  
Romilda ran away in tears muttering something about profit, but Luna couldn't make it out.  
  
"That was very funny. I can't help but feel a little bad for her, though."  
  
"Yeah, thanks for that. You're a mate." He looked down. "Erm. You- you can take your hand off of my arse now."  
  
"Oops. Sorry." She removed the offending hand and took a good at him. "You're nothing like I expected you would be these days."  
  
"Let me guess. You expected me to be surrounded by women and doing product placements."  
  
"Suicidal, actually. Which would have been perfectly understandable. I'm just glad to see you're doing so well. Re-opening Fortescue's seems like exactly the right thing for you to do."  
  
Harry stared, slack-jawed.  
  
"I'm sorry, your name is..." he said, offering his hand to shake.  
  
Luna boggled.  
  
"My name?  _Really_? Um, Cesario," she replied, recovering quickly.  
  
"Cesario..."  
  
"Sha- um. Qui...ver...dart? Quiverdart.  _Quiver_ dart."  
  
"Quiverdart?" Harry said dubiously.  
  
"Yes. Cesario Quiverdart. Pleased to meet you!"  
  
"I will never get used to these wizarding names," he sighed. "Well, can I repay you with lunch?"  
  
"That's very nice of you, Harry. I mean, Mr Potter."  
  
"You can call me Harry," he replied. "We've felt each other up, right? It's only fair."  
  
"That's true, Harry."  
  
They walked to the Leaky where he steered her to a booth along the wall and soon they were both nursing pints of stout.  
  
"So what's your story,  _Quiverdart_? Why were you gawking at my shop?"  
  
"I need a job."  
  
"Oh yeah?"  
  
"Mmm. My father died recently and I have to support myself now. I've never had a real job before, but I did finish my NEWTs."  
  
"Hm. I didn't," he remarked, his brow furrowed.  
  
"Perhaps you should. It might make you feel less like you're being given special treatment by everyone if you know that you're qualified."  
  
"What are you, a shrink?"  
  
"Oh! Like Ingrid Bergman in Spellbound?"  
  
Harry stared.  
  
"You watch Muggle films, then?" he asked kindly. Luna worried that he was beginning to think she was a little slow.  
  
"Sorry, yes. Not many people do. I forget that a lot."  
  
"It's fine. I was raised by Muggles. I like to watch them, too, sometimes."  
  
"We should do that together! It would be fun! Do you like romantic comedies? Or horror?"  
  
Harry got a worried look on his face.  
  
"Hey, you know that I'm not gay, right? I was just doing that to shake Romilda. She's been hounding me since Hogwarts. She almost killed my best friend once!"  
  
"You're not? But there's nothing wrong with that. Girls are nice, too." She smiled at him.  
  
"You're very odd."  
  
"Does that mean you won't give me a job?" she asked, worried. This was her best shot, and it was rather funny that Harry didn't recognize her. Also, it would be lovely to give people ice cream.  
  
He laughed, suddenly.  
  
"No, I think it would be better to keep you around. You... remind me of someone."  
  
"Really?" Luna was intrigued. "Who?"  
  
"Someone I haven't seen for a couple of years. Someone I miss talking to."  
  
Luna wondered who that was.  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
She found Neville in the back of the shop on a stepladder organizing jars of preserves.  
  
"Pleased to meet you!" she said, stretching her hand out.  
  
"Hello Luna. Long time no see," he replied distractedly.  
  
"Oh. Good to see you too, but please call me Cesario now."  
  
"Huh?" She got his attention at that. "Are you having bits added?"  
  
"No. I'm just pretending." She picked up a jar he nodded to and handed it up. "Harry doesn't know," she went on, "and I'd like to keep it that way for now, alright?"  
  
"But why?" he asked, perplexed.  
  
"I can trust you, can't I?"  
  
"Well of course, but-"  
  
"You're a real friend, Neville."  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
"Yep, I think it's the way to go," Harry explained as he gesticulated enthusiastically. "Muggle shops have all sorts of new flavors that wizards have never even heard of that are hugely successful! We're going to go check out the best ice cream parlor in London. I need your help picking out a few flavors to try here."  
  
"If it involves eating a lot of ice cream, I'll do it."  
  
Several hours and three pints of the stuff later, and Harry was staring across the table at her with a ridiculous smile.  
  
"Whahsit?"  
  
"You've only eaten half the shop!"  
  
Luna swallowed.  
  
"I'll try the blood orange and the ancho chocolate next."  
  
"Unbelievable."  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
"Do you like hanging out in Muggle London?" she asked as they walked down the street.  
  
"Yeah. It's nice to be someplace I'm not recognized. I love the wizarding world, but the world of Muggle grownups will always hold more of a fascination, I think."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"I suppose it's because I was never allowed to do anything or go anywhere as a child. This place has always been more of a mystery to me than home."  
  
"Wizarding world still home, then," she nodded to herself. "That's good."  
  
"Home's more of a challenge. There's still a lot to be done there."  
  
"The people could use some work."  
  
"Exactly," he agreed, frowning. "I get the whole xenophobia after being persecuted, but it seems stupid to be so afraid of people who have so much more in common with us than differences. It's paranoid and weird."  
  
"I'm glad that there are people like you to keep me on the high road." She smiled at him. "Because I'm doing my best not to consider them all pig headed arses."  
  
"Well, well, Mister Quiverbolt, or whatever your name is, let's go get pissed on Muggle ale and have a good rant, yeah?"  
  
Luna's head felt warm and heavy already. She though for a moment as she looked at him. She should say...  
  
"Lead the way, mate."  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
"Do you smell that?" Luna sniffed the air, full of warm sugar and malt. She felt her stomach growl.  
  
"Smells bloody fantastic, yeah."  
  
"Let's find where it's coming from. It smells like biscuits and waffles!"  
  
They followed their noses down the street in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron's Muggle entrance. A street vendor's cart was parked on the pavement, at least thirty hungry customers wrapped around the corner of the block.  
  
"I wonder if he knows how to make waffle cones," Luna mused.  
  
"Do you notice..." Harry trailed off.  
  
"Notice what?"  
  
"The people in the queue. They're all women."  
  
"He must be very handsome."  
  
"Or they're very good waffles. Maybe we could get a recipe. Let's talk to him!" Harry grabbed her arm and excitedly approached the cart only to stop dead a meter away from the man.  
  
" _You_."  
  
Draco Malfoy looked up and blinked in comical surprise. He quickly recovered, however.  
  
"The queue's that way," he said, motioning with his chin.  
  
"Yeah, no cutting," said the first customer with a frown before turning all smiles back to Draco. "Chocolate, sweet cheeks."  
  
"Draco, what on earth are you doing here?" Harry appeared concerned more than anything else, Luna couldn't help but notice.  
  
"I have no idea who you're talking about," he replied breezily. "My name's Sebastian."  
  
Luna laughed with delight.  
  
"Aha! Nice to meet you, Sebastian! My name is  _Cesario_!" She held out her hand to shake.  
  
Draco looked hopelessly confused.  
  
"But you're-"  
  
"Cesario. You see? Of course you do."  
  
"I don't understand what's going on here," Harry said.  
  
"Sir, I need to see the license for this cart," interrupted the policeman.  
  
"License?" Draco patted the pockets of his jeans with a smile before taking off down the street.  
  
"Cesario, stay here! I'll catch him!" Harry shouted as he ran after him.  
  
Luna looked at the policeman, then the line of people, then the policeman.  
  
"I'll close up the cart and take it away, officer."  
  
"Is it yours?" he asked with a dubious expression.  
  
"No, but I know him, and I can handle it. Sorry about this."  
  
"I suppose that's alright, then. But you tell him that he can't operate without a license. Period. And if I catch him again I'll be taking him downtown."  
  
"I will. Thank you."  
  
The customer grabbed Luna's shoulder, tightly.  
  
"Does this mean that I don't get my waffle?"  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
The next day was a slog. Luna painted until her neck was sore, and then painted some more. She'd been surprised to discover that Mister Fortescue had actually survived the war. According to Harry, he preferred to keep a low profile. His war story was a total mystery to everyone. Only Harry seemed to trust him, so she supposed it can't have been as bad as all that. Yet he'd had to practically force him to help out. Whatever happened to him, it turned him into a crabby old bastard, Luna thought.  
  
"Did you see who he's got here now?" Fortescue asked her, scowling. "That's Draco Malfoy over there making cones! I never in all my days thought I'd see a waffle cone being made in my establishment."  
  
"Oh, is it still your establishment?" Luna asked sweetly.  
  
The old man glared at her.  
  
"You listen to me, young man," he said, pointing a finger at her. "That boy over there is rotten to the core. I don't like it one bit."  
  
"His name's Sebastian, actually," Luna lied. "He's very good at what he does. He keeps to himself. I doubt he'll be getting in your way."  
  
"Hmph." Fortescue huffed and walked away.  
  
Luna walked over to the sink beneath the pass-through and began washing her brushes.  
  
"How's your kitchen coming along, Sebastian?" she asked with a wink.  
  
"Perfectly well,  _Cesario_." He paused his mixing of the batter and looked at her. "Was that really the best you could come up with?"  
  
"What's wrong with it?"  
  
"Firstly, it's a terribly obvious reference. You may as well just tell people that you're a girl. And you could have picked something less poncey. Like Maximus, for example."  
  
"Oh, I did consider that one!"  
  
"Well."  
  
"Why'd you pick Sebastian?"  
  
Draco talked as he poured the sweet scented batter onto the iron and warmed it with his wand.  
  
"I don't know. Handsome and martyred. You know."  
  
"You weren't martyred," she pointed out.  
  
"Well, no, but... figuratively. I'm part of a persecuted minority."  
  
"Then wouldn't something like Paul or Martin be even better?"  
  
"Just... shut up."  
  
Luna smiled and looked across the shop to where Harry was installing display shelving above the booths with a manual screwdriver. With each twist the muscles in his arm rippled a new pattern beneath his skin. Although he was on a ladder, the shelves were rather high and his t-shirt kept riding up to expose a strip of skin on his side. Neville was holding the screws and watching the process, rapt.  
  
"You'll give yourself away, staring like that."  
  
"Eh?" Luna turned back to Draco.  
  
"You can't openly drool over another man, can you? Best keep that private," he said, tapping her shoulder with his spoon.  
  
"I do not have a- look, you've gotten batter all over my shoulder. Sebastian!"  
  
"At least your attention's somewhere else, now. It's easy to fix. Just take your shirt off and wash it in the sink," he suggested brightly.  
  
"I'll just use my wand, thank you. Evil git."  
  
"Cross-dressing whore."  
  
"Why did you never tease me like this when I was locked in your cellar?"  
  
"Oh, fuck off."  
  
"It's almost as if you were my brother!"  
  
"I  _said_  fuck off."  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
"Are those... are those instant noodles?"  
  
It was past 7 o'clock in the evening, and everyone else had gone home for the day. Harry stared at Luna, sitting at one of the freshly installed tables. She looked down at her food.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But... here? Is this what you eat?" He looked stricken.  
  
"Yes, but-"  
  
"You can't survive off of that." He appeared to come to a decision. "Come with me."  
  
"To where?"  
  
"My place. I have real food."  
  
Which is how she found herself, ten minutes later, sitting at his table eating chicken and veg pie, hearing everything there was to know about Harry's childhood.  
  
"I didn't have my first ice lolly until I was nearly eleven. It was really hard to get enough to feed myself. I'm not sure I really ate properly until I got to Hogwarts."  
  
"Oh, Harry," she breathed.  
  
"You'd think that it should have been easier when I did the cooking, but not really. Aunt Petunia watched the meat like a hawk, and I could only ever sneak anything when it was something like batter or dough. She bought oatmeal once, but I made the mistake of taking too much and she never bought it again."  
  
Luna was horrified. First the cupboard, now this.  
  
"Shame, too, because that stuff's got a lot of protein."  
  
He spoke with a sort of detachment, as though he were relating something he'd seen in a film.  
  
"I never knew you had such a terrible childhood."  
  
"It's important to get enough to eat," he said gravely.  
  
"Just  _smelling_  this pie could end hunger," she said. Harry grinned.  
  
"Molly Weasley is an excellent cook."  
  
"She's very kind."  
  
"Do you know her?"  
  
"Me? Oh! No. No, I just mean... it's nice of her to make this for you. I haven't tasted anything so good since my dad died."  
  
"How long ago?"  
  
"A few weeks, now," she said, digging back into her pie.  
  
"Fucking hell," he said, seemingly without thinking. "I'm so sorry."  
  
Unlike most of the times that phrase is uttered in sympathy, Luna could tell that he really meant it.  
  
"You care a lot about people, don't you, Harry?" she said as she reached across the table and took his hand.  
  
His eyes met hers and he stared for a long moment. A blush crept across his face and down his neck. She looked down at their hands and felt her own color begin to match his own.  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."  
  
"It's alright." He pulled his hand from her grip. "I think I'd better get some sleep."  
  
"Oh!" She looked down at her half eaten pie. "I'll just wrap this-"  
  
"It's okay. Stay and finish. Have more. You can let yourself... hang on. Where do you live?"  
  
"Um. I have a little place."  
  
"Where?" he demanded.  
  
"I have a flat above Belch and Kettle."  
  
"WHAT? That building's chimneys are collapsed!"  
  
"But it's only October. It's fine," she explained.  
  
"No," he insisted. "It's really not."  
  
He walked down the hall and returned with blankets and a pillow.  
  
"Er... I have a really comfortable couch."  
  
"Harry, you don't have to do this. I'm fine, really!"  
  
"Look. I have friends who had to survive in a cold dungeon," he said in a tone that brooked no arguments.  
  
Her stomach pitched inside her belly. He could only mean her.  
  
"I don't want you to be cold."  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
The next day should have been awkward, but somehow it wasn't. Harry's conversation induced funk must have worn off as he slept, because he was being his cheerful self again.  
  
Luna was helping Draco and Neville in the kitchen. Fortescue insisted that she be the one to learn his base recipe because according to him it would take many attempts and "if anyone ever needed to eat the botched results it'd be that boy."  
  
She learned how to charm the churner and was now on her third batch. She thought she'd finally got it right this time.  
  
"If I can master this one, I can move on to the sorbet next," she said with determination. She hadn't expected how much she'd love making ice cream.  
  
"Will we be doing coffee drinks?" Neville asked.  
  
"Coffee what?" grumbled Fortescue through the pass-through. "This is an ice cream shop, boy, not a coffee shop."  
  
"All of the Muggle places serve coffee drinks," Draco pointed out.  
  
"I don't think we need the dark side's opinion."  
  
"That wasn't very nice, Florian," Luna admonished.  
  
"Why do you get to call him Florian?" asked Draco. "Can I call him Florian, too?"  
  
"No," Fortescue barked. He wandered over to the freezer case and began to tinker with his wand.  
  
"You seem to have gotten on the old man's good side, if he's letting you call him that," Neville said.  
  
"He acts like a meanie, but I think it will wear off in time. He's a sweetheart underneath, really."  
  
"Has he told you what happened to him?"  
  
"No. I won't make him, either."  
  
"You wouldn't happen to know, would you, Dra- er, Sebastian?"  
  
"Why would I know anything about that?" Draco asked in high pitched defensiveness.  
  
"Right. Okay, then maybe you know why Harry's been staring over here for the last half hour?"  
  
Luna looked up and met Harry's eyes through the pass-through. Harry blushed and looked away.  
  
"Of course I do. He's got a big gay man crush on Cesario," explained Draco.  
  
Luna froze.  
  
"But Harry's not gay! And Cesario's a-"  
  
"Man, yes, I know. And yet, Potter's been staring over here with mournful eyes. Except when Cesario's been turned away at the ice cream stone, at which time Potter stares at his arse, instead."  
  
"You can't be serious! Isn't that a little weird?"  
  
"I don't see what the big deal is," Draco replied. "Muggles do it all the time. It's nothing remarkable there."  
  
"Man love was once a proud tradition amongst purebloods. Why, when I was a boy, we were all doing it. I had a wonderful friend named Alfred. The things he and I would get up to..."  
  
No one noticed that Fortescue had been listening at the pass-through. Draco and Neville both looked appropriately horrified.  
  
Suddenly, the door opened and none other than Ginny Weasley walked in. She was windswept and lovely in her Quidditch robes. She must have just come from practice.  
  
"We're not open for another week, woman!" yelled Fortescue. "Get out of here."  
  
"I'm here for Harry, Mister Fortescue." She turned to Harry, whose eyes snapped up to finally notice her presence.  
  
"Ginny!"  
  
"Ready for lunch, Harry?"  
  
"Course," he replied, smiling.  
  
"Well, well, well. Looks like you've got some stiff competition, Cesario!" Draco laughed. "On second thought, maybe not  _stiff_ , which if Neville is right, gives her a distinct advantage."  
  
"Oh, stuff it, Sebastian."  
  
Luna could let him have his fun, but there was nothing funny about the surge of jealousy that coursed through her at the thought of Harry going out with Ginny. Her friend, Ginny. She felt jealous, guilty and startled all at once.  
  
Why did life have to be so complicated?  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
The following week was a fair bit of torture.  
  
He was always with Ginny.  
  
Even though she was in his flat, sleeping on his couch, she barely saw him outside of work. Which was the problem, really. At work he payed her  _so damned much_  attention. Always asking about her life, her opinions, smiling at her.  
  
Touching her.  
  
It was more than she could take. She had to know where she stood.  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
"So. Are you going out with Ginny again tonight?"  
  
The rest had all gone home, and Luna was finishing up a batch of chocolate while Harry puttered around the kitchen.  
  
"Not tonight, no. I thought maybe we could go down to the pub or something. If you're up for it, that is."  
  
"Are you dating her?" That's right, Cesario, just cut to the chase.  
  
"What?" Harry asked, startled. "Why?"  
  
"No reason. She's a wonderful girl. You'll be very happy with her."  
  
"Maybe. I suppose that someday maybe we might make a match of it," he replied, his eyebrows raised thoughtfully.  
  
Alarm bells began going off in Luna's head. Loud, resonous alarm bells.  
  
"Are you even in love with her?" she snapped.  
  
"Do you fancy her or something?" he asked, moving next to her.  
  
"No," she sighed. "Of course not. She's... she's..."  
  
"A she?" he asked quietly.  
  
Luna stilled. Her heart was thudding through her chest. What if she told him right now? What would he say?  
  
"Is it because you fancy me, instead?"  
  
His hand was on her shoulder. She could feel it shaking.  
  
"You shouldn't be with someone you don't love," she whispered. He turned her to face him.  
  
"Do you really think I could do that?" His hands burned into her shoulders. She could feel his breath against her face, hear his breath quicken. All she had to do was move forward a little and she would be kissing him. She closed her eyes.  
  
"I'm not gay," he said, his voice trembling. "I don't understand what this is."  
  
Suddenly his hands were gone.  
  
"I can't do this." She heard his footsteps quick across the floor. She didn't need to open her eyes. Her involuntary sob told her that tears were inevitable.  
  
Luna never realized how much a heart could actually ache.  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
There was no point in going back to Harry's. No point in going to her own flat either. Once she was done crying, she went to wash her face. She looked like shit. There was no point in continuing. She'd finish making the last of the batches for the opening, and then she'd leave.  
  
Hours of work soothed her. She churned batch after batch, then mixed in the different flavors on the stone until her arms ached. But the work helped her gather her thoughts. She was positive that if she came out as a girl to Harry now, that he'd not forgive her. She had to make a clean break of it.  
  
She thought back to their first conversation.  
  
_"Why an ice cream shop?"  
  
"I dunno, really. I suppose it would be nice to do something that makes people happy. Everyone loves ice cream, right?"_  
  
She sighed. He really was wonderful. And she had to stop thinking about him before she started sobbing again.  
  
Perhaps she could open a shop of her own somewhere.  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
She woke with a start. She lifted her head from the countertop. Her arse ached.  
  
Someone was in the shop. She stood and grabbed her wand just as Harry appeared in the kitchen doorway. He strode across the room and pushed her against the wall.  
  
His lips were softer than she'd imagined.  
  
She opened her mouth to him and he seemed momentarily startled, but he quickly recovered. The feeling of his heart thudding against her body was incredible. The slide of their tongues seemed to go on forever. At least, that was the way it felt to Luna.  
  
His arms wrapped around her and she remembered what hope felt like. She pulled back  
  
"You never came back," he began. "I went to your flat."  
  
"You were looking for me?"  
  
Harry looked at her, jaw set.  
  
"I don't care what you are. Boy, girl, sheep. I'm ready to give everything up for you."  
  
"Stop. Please don't say that."  
  
"But why?" he asked, confused.  
  
"Because it almost sounds as though you're in love with me."  
  
"But Luna, I  _do_  love you."  
  
Her eyes went wider than his, if that was possible.  
  
" _Luna_?!" he cried. "Are you Luna?" He backed away and grabbed her by the shoulders, looking her up and down searchingly.  
  
"I hoped," she whispered, tears trembling at the edge of her lashes. "I hoped that deep down your heart knew who I was."  
  
"You're...it's you. You  _lied_  to me! Why wouldn't you tell me?" His palms cupped her cheeks firmly. She felt as though she would float away without him holding her there.  
  
"Everything got so out of hand," she began.  
  
"You know what?" he interrupted. "Fuck it."  
  
And he kissed her again.  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
They started slowly.  
  
Harry insisted on side-alonging her with him back to his flat. The anticipation was killing her. The most she'd ever done with a boy was the one time Dean kissed her and put his hand up her shirt. That feeling paled in comparison to simply standing close to Harry. Her entire body thrummed beside his.  
  
"I'm not all that experienced, you should know."  
  
"You say that as though I were," she said, smiling.  
  
He grinned.  
  
"Right. Okay then."  
  
~  
  
He was gentle as he undressed her. He unwrapped her breasts and soothed the red lines with his mouth.  
  
"You should never hide these."  
  
She shivered as he pulled off her denims, and couldn't stop because then he was pulling down her underwear and kissing her belly.  
  
"Are you cold?"  
  
"M-mm. Warm. Don't stop."  
  
~  
  
When he entered her, she gasped. It hurt and she was glad for it.  
  
He thrust into her over and over again, each bump rubbing against her. She felt something building inside her, something that made her wrap her legs around his back and pull him towards her again, harder each time, until it radiated out and made her legs shake. Made her cry out, make sounds she never thought she'd make.  
  
"Please, Harry!"  
  
"God,  _yes_."  
  
She felt him come inside her.  
  
She wanted to feel it again.  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
"I'd always wondered what happened to you. I knew you still talked to the Weasleys sometimes, but I never heard where you were or what you were doing with yourself."  
  
They laid in bed together, their legs bent and overlapped. His fingers tickled her shoulder and played with her hair.  
  
"I was keeping a low profile because of Daddy. I'm afraid that no one would really give me a job as his daughter. They didn't really care who  _I_  was, or what I'd done. They only cared that my father was a traitor."  
  
"So that's why you dressed as a boy?"  
  
"That's right. I have quite a lot in common with Sebastian and Florian."  
  
"You mean Draco and Florian."  
  
"How could you not tell it was me?" she laughed. "Practically all I did was cut my hair!"  
  
"What, it was a very effective disguise!"  
  
"Draco and Neville knew who I was. I'm pretty sure Florian at least knows I'm a girl, too."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Don't feel too bad. It's all about context, I suppose."  
  
"You'll stay on, won't you? At the shop? And with me?"  
  
"Of course I will."  
  
"Good. I don't want to be shorthanded for the opening." He snorted.  
  
"Oh, Harry. You've been hanging around Sebastian too much."  
  


~@~@~@~@~@~@~

  
  
Luna looked around the shop full of people. Their grand opening had gone off without a hitch, and a reporter from the Daily Prophet came by to do a quick write-up. Their second day was shaping up to be even busier! Strangely, it was mostly women. At least they were friendly and patient.  
  
"Step away from the espresso maker, Neville," Fortescue commanded.  
  
"But sir, there's coffee on the menu and someone has to be the barrista."  
  
"And that'll be me, my boy."  
  
"I see the old man's found a new passion," Draco remarked.  
  
"Yes," Luna agreed, smiling. "I think it's helping him get back to his old self. He seems much nicer now, don't you think?"  
  
"He's still a prick to me."  
  
"Well, Sebastian. Perhaps you should ask him to show you how to make espresso."  
  
"You can kiss his arse all you want to, Luna, but you won't catch me doing it."  
  
"You secretly like the old man. Admit it."  
  
"Actually, I hate you all," he replied, breezily.  
  
"I've got it!" Harry cried, "The owl's just brought it!" He ran to the counter with it. "And it's front page!" He began to read aloud.  
  
_Harry Potter, Gay Entrepreneur?  
  
Some things never go out of style. Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, has shacked up with another man! An eyewitness reports that the chosen one was caught kissing the man outside of Fortescue's Ice Cream Shop two weeks before it's grand opening. What's more, the same man has been reported walking arm and arm with him, and seen exiting his flat, and Potter's employ at Fortescue's. It seems that the old pureblood tradition of keeping it within one's own wing is still alive and well. Fortescue's opened yesterday to great success. Their menu includes coffee drinks._  
  
"I just don't even..."  
  
"It's okay, Harry. Word will get around eventually. And it's not hurt business at all," she pointed out.  
  
"No worries! Who cares, right? It was very nearly true, after all."  
  
"That's the spirit, scarhead!" Draco piped in.  
  
"So, Potter. Seen today's paper?" Romilda Vane stood across the counter, a vicious smile on her face.  
  
"What, this paper?" he replied, eyebrow cocked. "The Prophet's really gone downhill, and that's saying something."  
  
"Are you denying it?" she asked shrilly. "Messing about with that boy?"  
  
"You mean that boy over there?" he asked, motioning to Luna.  
  
"Yes! Him!"  
  
"The one with the tits?" Draco interjected.  
  
"Tits?" she repeated weakly.  
  
"They're really, really spectacular," Harry affirmed, nodding.  
  
Luna untucked her apron and grasped the hem of her t-shirt with both hands. She looked at Romilda questioningly.  
  
"Would you like to see them?"  
  
  
_finite incantatem_


End file.
